


kan jeg ånde kun gennem dig

by spacewitchescantdie



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/F, Inappropriate Use of the Force, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2019-07-25 11:29:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16196636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacewitchescantdie/pseuds/spacewitchescantdie
Summary: I can only breathe through youFlight and physicality are both funny things in the Force.





	kan jeg ånde kun gennem dig

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kurage_hime](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurage_hime/gifts).



Leia's hope burns bright still in the days after Crait for all that her energy wanes. The grey of her hair and cloak does not dim, though it tends haggard rather than serene as she deals with the minutiae of managing their much diminished army.

But she still seems impossibly present as she moves with tired efficiency through the mundane - arranging a weapons shipment from D'Acy's father - to the much less tangible - ripples in the Force, the echoes of movement from the massive First Order fleet, rumours of a ghost ship circling threatened planets - and from the middle of the chaotic, desperate whirl that is their new life on Hoth, Rey watches.

More: Rey _wants_ , fiercely, every atom of her reaching out for every bit of Leia in the Force, an incoherent sort of desperate yearning that would frighten her if she hadn't lived through so much else. As it is, all she knows is that Leia makes her believe that she might, for the first time, be wanted in return.

And oh, she is wanted, she's sure of it, she builds up the proof of it over the long, blindingly blank days in Echo Base, in the touches granted and wisdom given and questions not asked. She wraps her fingers around Leia's locator beacon and does not look at Leia's father's lightsaber and thinks about how she went off to find Leia's brother and, in an amount of time so short it surprises her, decides that yes, Leia does want her, for more than what she's useful for.

Perhaps that's why she lingers in Leia's office long after the rest of the remaining Resistance command has drifted off to warmer rooms. Perhaps that's why she asks, not really expecting much of an answer, if Leia wants to come flying with her.

Leia studies her for a long moment, eyes still sharp above the high collar of her cape that obscures most of her face. Studies her for long enough that Rey almost starts to wonder if she's made a mistake, if, perhaps, whatever way Leia wanted her didn't truly extend to this.

Finally, though, Leia says, "In this weather?"

It hasn't stopped snowing since they landed, in the white false summer of this long-abandoned rock. But there's a surety to Leia's voice despite her question, like she doesn't distrust Rey's skill so much as wants to make sure that Rey truly wants to fly in this weather.

"I'll fly us true," Rey says, and in the silence of the room it seems to mean so much more, about so much more than simply a night flight through the blizzard. "I've flown through worse."

Only in sims, she doesn't say, or maybe, only worse firefights, where the lights past the viewports were a particularly lethal sort of snowflake. But Leia rises from her chair - smiles at Rey's half-offered hand - and Rey feels the lightning-quick brush of Leia's mind against hers, never deep enough to invade her privacy unasked but always profound enough to be reassuring, a bright spark that crystallises all of Rey's racing thoughts down into a few clear desires, a few clear goals.

Rey returns the thought - _I'm here, I feel you, I know_ \- as they walk to the hanger bay. When she was a girl dreaming of Princess Leia she had never imagined her to be a woman comfortable in silences, but she's come to realise that silence is a too often neglected friend of Leia's, one that she's happy to share with her. The silence feels comfortable with Leia, enclosed and homelike in a way silence never was in the desert, and when their hands brush against each other, when Leia smiles and perhaps moves even closer, Rey allows herself to fall into the touch and dream of never emerging.

**

The storm outside is as profound as Leia's earlier question had suggested, sweeping in the creaking bay doors with a howl that resonates somewhere deeper in Rey's bones than the wind has reached in years. The cold seems to seep even into the shuttle's walls, even with the engines on, and Rey feels Leia shift to press tighter against her side as she runs through pre-flight checks.

"Where are we going?" she asks, and her voice doesn't shake at all.

"Anywhere," Leia says distantly, and for a moment Rey allows her imagination to fly just as free as they soon will be, off into a future where she and Leia can leave Hoth behind, can leave aside the death and the dying and the dead and simply be, alive in the Force that will never let them know loneliness again.

"Maybe," she says, as their small ship shivers around them in another gust of wind, "Maybe over the mountains. If we get somewhere with less wind ..."

Rey trails off, all possible endings for that sentence a jumble of words stuck under her tongue that not even Leia's hand, resting warm against her thigh, can pry loose.

Leia hasn't asked anything of her since they left her office. Rey is terrified she won't ask anything of her once they're in the air.

(She wonders, almost, if Leia's hand is a question of itself)

And then it doesn't matter, because Leia's grip is firm and sure, warmer than the wasteland and warmer than a sun even as their ship skids out and up, fighting the winds to kiss the clouds. Rey's body sways with the movement, and she doesn't have to look to know Leia's is as well. Every jolt and shudder of the ship sends shivers down Rey's spine, makes her press her thighs tight together until she thinks to wonder if she's crushing Leia's fingers between them.

She glances sidelong at Leia when she abandons the fight to see past the snow whirling across the transparisteel in front of her. She's come to understand that sight is only one way to fly, and she cedes control of their flight to the Force with an ease that is no longer surprising.

And it's worth it, oh, it's worth it as Leia smiles back at her, part mischief and part caution and all wanting. At least until she says, "This isn't why you brought me out here," her tone not light enough to disguise the regret.

It's _awful_ , the thought that she might have disappointed Leia, that she might not get to see her unguarded, feel her bare hands, so much so that Rey skips past the first, honest no and gives the full truth that Leia's expectant gaze demands: "I hoped."

Leia closes the gap between them, and Rey gasps as their mouths meet, fingers tightening reflexively around the edge of the console. Leia kisses hard and insistent, cold teeth nipping at Rey's bottom lip, and the shuttle tilts precariously as Rey moans into Leia's mouth.

"Thought you said you would fly us true," Leia teases as she pulls back.

"I can," Rey insists. When she reaches out with all her senses in the Force Leia is nearly overwhelming next to her, and, with an effort, readjusts their flight path. The ship is icy against her mind, and she flinches back until she touches Leia again and lets herself be warmed.

Leia seems to be touching her everywhere, the hand pressing with clear intent between her legs, the hand cupping her cheek, and more, the unbearable life she holds inescapable.

"That - oh, that's not fair," Rey murmurs, trying to press herself further into Leia's space, her presence. White clouds the edges of her vision, casting everything in a pleasant haze.

"I didn't say I would be." Leia's voice is barely a whisper against her ear; Rey isn't sure she's spoken at all. "Fly us true." And then her hand slips inside Rey's trousers, fingers dipping down to where Rey's slick and aching already, and she realises for the first time exactly how difficult that is going to be.


End file.
